Although I Long To Be
by A Ceramic Girl
Summary: or, Five Times Natasha Left Steve for Clint, and One Time She Didn't.
1. Chapter 1

Written for a prompt by Vassalady on tumblr:

"I really want fic where Steve and Natasha are in love, but she puts Clint first one hundred percent of the time. Steve knows this and accepts it, even if he isn't necessarily happy about it... Because Natasha sees it as she owes everything to Clint. She will do anything to make sure he is alive and well, even if it means doing something that she can barely stand to do.

Even if it means shattering her heart and the love that she never believed in. Even if it means shattering Steve's heart."

* * *

I am not yours, not lost in you,  
Not lost, although I long to be  
Lost as a candle lit at noon,  
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me, and I find you still  
A spirit beautiful and bright,  
Yet I am I, who long to be  
Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh plunge me deep in love - put out  
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,  
Swept by the tempest of your love,  
A taper in a rushing wind.

-Sarah Teasdale

* * *

I.

Battle tended to strip her to her barest self; of instinct and muscle memory and snap judgments.

So when she heard her name from two directions, two desperate cries for aid; she was already moving towards one of them before she realized what she had done.  
She was running to the man she owed her life, rather than the man she loved.

It was automatic for her to go to Clint; natural. She didn't even think beforehand, she just went.

But this time, she looked back.

Steve could handle whatever it was, she knew. She trusted in that implicitly.

She tried to tell herself she was going to help the least advantaged of the two of them, that this wasn't what it was.

Even so, the new bond that connected her to Steve seemed to pull painfully tight as he shattered, watching her leave.

His eyes caught hers, and they both knew she would never be able to give him what he deserved.

There was too much of her tied to another man.


	2. Chapter 2

II.

Because of how he had watched her when she and Clint had been bantering earlier in the kitchen, as soon as she was on the couch with his arm around her waist and her head on his chest as they watched a movie neither was paying much attention to she said  
"I don't love him, Steve."

"I know."

But his response was too casual, too careful.  
It almost made her angry, honestly. She felt like yelling at him, demanding to know why it bothered him so much if he knew she didn't love Clint – not like she loved him, not anything close to like she loved him.

He spoke again, in that voice that was so careful not to have anything in it but words.

"You may not love him, but he takes priority for you."

She deflated, and a wave of sadness hit her because she knew it was true.  
It would always be true.


	3. Chapter 3

III.  
She didn't require a feeling of safety from others. It went against her job description in too many ways to count. But in Steve's arms, she knew she had it. Ear pressed to his chest with his arm round her shoulders, hers carelessly flung across his waist, she felt safe. Lulled by his even breathing, the hollow sounding heartbeat, his thumb dragging across the curve of her shoulder, she could fall into a deeper sleep than she usually allowed herself.

But even in the deepest sleep, she woke suddenly, silently.  
Her phone had beeped, and she removed her arm from across Steve's body to reach behind her for it.  
Shielding him from the light as best she could, she read the message.

Clint.

It wouldn't be too long – a couple hours, tops – but he needed her help, now.  
She carefully slipped out of the loose embrace she was being held in, pressed a quick kiss to his lips and rolled out of the bed to change in the darkness.  
Through all this, he didn't move, didn't speak – as though still asleep.  
She made little noise, and didn't turn on the light, as though respecting that.

They both knew better.


	4. Chapter 4

IV.

Steve would get understandably depressed.

Overwhelmed.

He would feel lost without the people he had known, the world he had known.

On those days, she would hold him like he so often held her, and run her hands through his hair and whisper him things in Russian he couldn't possibly understand.

Not that it mattered.

He just needed her to be there.

So when he called, voice shaking to say that he was feeling lost and alone - she went.

On the way, her phone rang again. She answered it, listened a moment or two, and started running.

It was only after she'd spent the night in the hospital with an injured Clint that she remembered Steve had called her first.


	5. Chapter 5

V.  
"You're leaving."

She should have known he would be there; that he would figure it out. He may have been innocent, naive.

But he wasn't an idiot.

"...Yes."

It was hard to say; she had to try several times before the word came out.

He was standing behind her in the doorway, watching her pack everything she would need to live without him. It felt strangely symbolic; as if she was already trying to fill a void she knew would be there.

"I love you."

She should have known that was coming, too. Though the words were soft - almost afraid - she felt the weight of them settle across her, the ache deep in her belly that they planted.

Her eyes began to water, and her knuckles went white as she clenched at the shirt she had been folding into her suitcase.

She wouldn't say it in return, she _wouldn't._

"I-I know."

Her voice cracked slightly anyways. He must have noticed, clung to it.

"Then stay, please."

There was no longer any attempt from him to keep the desperation out of his voice.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

This was the one thing she couldn't do for him. Clint had asked her to leave, to join him on a mission for who knew how long.  
And she couldn't refuse.

She swiped her hand across her face, laid the last of her clothes in the case and zipped it in one swift, harsh motion.

"I can't. I'm sorry, Steve. I have to go."

With that, she brushed past him, never meeting his eyes - or even looking at him.  
If she did, she would never be able to leave.

And she had to leave, if Clint needed her.


	6. Chapter 6

+1.

He was the first person she looked for, when she returned months later.

When he saw her, he didn't look happy to see her.

Just sad.

"Steve," she whispered, and stretched up to kiss him.

"Hi."

He hugged her instead.

"How was the mission?" she remembered that carefully modulated tone, the voice he used when he was trying not to show what he was feeling.

She pulled away from him to see if his face was showing anything more than his words, but he was studiously impassive.

"Why are you-?"

"You spent six months with him. You should know the answer to that, Tash."

Was he going to ruin this with petty jealousy? Their first meeting in - she pretended she hadn't counted the days - and irritation streaked through her.

He read that in her posture and addressed it.

"I'm not jealous. I know you love me. But he will always come first for you."

He took her hand in a loose grip, almost like he was apologizing for something.

"Steve, I know it's not always fair to you, but-" she hurried to get out some sort of explanation, to stop what she was afraid was going to happen.

"Then you should know why I can't do this." He squeezed her hand, bent to kiss her on the cheek, and left her standing in the hall.

After leaving him so many times, she should have expected he would one day leave her.

That knowledge didn't keep her from collapsing to the floor, hand over her mouth to stifle the broken sounds that were ripping from her throat as hot tears dripped to the carpet.

* * *

A/N: I apologize.

This was a hard fic for me to write because it was so darned emotional; really draining.

I've gotten several people asking me to add more, or to write another fic to go along with it to fix it.

I'm going to tell you right now that is a useless endeavor (sorry). Partially because I was filling a prompt, and partly because the relationship they had wasn't exactly healthy.

Let me remind you that I never said this was happy, put it under Angst from the very beginning.

I do have other, happier stevetasha fics. Feel free to direct yourself their way, and thanks so much for reading and your kind words!

- ACG


End file.
